


Thank you for the coffee

by maryangel



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Community: bandombigbang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryangel/pseuds/maryangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard lives a mediocre life and has a mediocre part time job he hates. The highlight of his days is when he stops by Starbucks to get his favorite caffeinated drink from his favorite barista, Frank.</p><p>Then one day, Gerard's wishes start coming true and his entire world is shaken up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank you for the coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/tempore/profile)[**tempore**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/tempore/) for the beta. I can always count on you to give me the best feedback. Also thanks, [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/intothenightx/profile)[**intothenightx**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/intothenightx/) and [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/pfriemelchen/profile)[**pfriemelchen**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/pfriemelchen/) for being there when I need hand-holding and cheering up.

Frank hands Gerard his first coffee of the day, a grande white chocolate mocha with five shots of espresso, because that’s probably the best thing on this planet and the only thing that can kick start Gerard’s brain. The he grins at him, big and way too cheerful for a Monday morning.

Gerard tries to smile back and say something witty or funny, something that will make Frank fall in love with him on the spot, but only manages to mumble an approximate, “Thanks.”

He grabs his cup and goes to sit in his favorite corner while Frank is taking care of his next customer.

The first sip of hot coffee is always the highlight of Gerard’s day. Well, actually, the moment he walks into Starbucks and sees Frank behind the counter in his green apron and his easy smile makes his day, but the coffee! Okay, it might be a toss-up. He’ll never get tired of it.

Gerard digs through his bag for a pen and starts doodling random things on a stack of napkins while still keeping an eye on Frank.

He tries not to stare for too long because Frank would probably notice and take offense and that’s really the last thing Gerard would want. Or he would think Gerard is some sort of creeper, which he kind of is, all things considered.

This is how Gerard spends most of his days when he doesn’t have to go to work. He spends it sitting in a corner of the Starbucks in Glen Ridge, doodling and staring at Frank. It’s the reason why he gets up every morning because if he’s really honest to himself, his life has been kind of empty and pointless since he left art school. It’s like he’s just waiting for something to happen, maybe a sign that could lead him in the right direction and help him figure out what he wants to do with the rest of his life.

Gerard is ordering his fourth coffee, slipping a five dollar note in the tip jar, when Frank reaches across the counter and hands Gerard a huge chocolate chip muffin when he’s pretty sure he didn’t ask for one.

“Have a muffin. It’s on the house.”

Gerard nods instead of saying _thank you_ because he’s an idiot. He stares at the muffin for a few seconds, willing his hand to actually reach and _take the stupid pastry already_.

“It would go to waste and I think you could use something a little more solid in your exclusive coffee diet,” Frank says with a crooked grin, depositing the muffin in the palm of Gerard’s hand. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Gerard won’t tell anyone.

Besides, it’s not the first time this happens. Last week, he got a free latte because Frank messed up an order. The week before, Gerard got a free brownie and also a free sandwich.

Frank does that sometimes. He gives Gerard free stuff because it will supposedly go to waste. He always has a perfectly suitable explanation for his generosity.

“I’m just worried your blood will eventually turn into mocha,” he says as he hands Gerard his coffee. He put a ton of whipped cream on it and that’s probably on the house too.

Frank is a great guy because he’s nice to people he doesn’t even know. He takes care of Gerard even though he doesn’t have to.

He also happens to have a boyfriend, since that’s the way it always is; great guys are never single. That’s the main thing that’s keeping Gerard from doing anything, like asking Frank out on a date or just talking to him. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Gerard is the most awkward person ever born and that he shouldn’t even be allowed outside of his parents’ basement most days.

Frank’s boyfriend is covered in tattoos and talks fast and barely ever smiles. One day he just showed up during one of Frank’s shifts and that was it.

Gerard decided the second he saw him, leaning against the counter, a hand slipping underneath Frank’s apron, that the guy was a huge dickhead and that he didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as Frank, let alone touch him. Since Gerard never heard his name, he started calling him Dickhead because it seemed like the only appropriate name for such a dickhead. Today, Dickhead is picking up Frank from work.

He doesn’t say hi to anyone and just takes the free drink Frank just made for him. He looks mildly annoyed when Frank is taking too much time to finish his shift. He sighs and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth before starting pacing around the counter like a caged hyena. He looks even more annoyed when Frank comes out the back and stops to talk to a customer.

Frank’s boyfriend is getting free coffee and he gets to go home with Frank and still manages to look annoyed. He’s obviously a dickhead who needs to get his priorities straight. Maybe he’s jealous because Frank is generous with his smiles. He gives them to everyone he meets like they’re his business card. That’s one of the things Gerard loves the most about Frank. He wishes Frank would always smile.

They’re on their way out when Frank starts talking to the guy who’s working the next shift. That’s the moment when Dickhead loses his cool. “Can we fucking go already?” he asks, dragging Frank through the door like he owns him.

“I am not fucking ready, you ass.” Frank bats his hand away and flips him off.

“Yes you are. We have to go now before we hit traffic.”

Gerard watches them bicker as they leave the Starbucks. He doubts he ever saw such an ill-fitted pair before. Dickhead tries to wrap his arm around Frank’s waist when they’re out in the parking lot but Frank keeps pulling away. See, Gerard thinks. Even Frank knows his boyfriend is a dickhead.

*

The day Gerard’s life takes a turn for the weird feels like any other day, so much so that Gerard doesn’t really pick up on how fucking odd everything is until later. Like, five coffees later. It starts off with Gerard rolling out of bed and stubbing his big toe on his way to the bathroom.

He rubs one out while he’s in there because he had yet another dream about Frank last night which involved a lot of kissing and cuddling, and for some unknown reason, something about trying to catch a polar bear with a tin of sardines. Dream Frank hates sardines.

As soon as he’s done and looks okay enough to wander outside, he picks up some semi-clean clothes off the floor, gets dressed and heads out. When he gets to Starbucks, still half asleep, still thinking about his dream and how good it felt to kiss Frank, he’s the first person in line, as per usual.

Frank is already behind the counter, giggling about something, and Gerard wishes he knew what it was. He loves hearing Frank laugh but he’s a bit sad that he’s not in on the joke.

The doors open and Gerard makes a bee line for the counter, checking his pockets for change, his fingers closing around a ten dollar bill he will eventually give Frank as a tip by the end of his shift.Frank probably knows Gerard as the guy who over-tips him and drinks too much coffee. Maybe he even has a nickname for him, something like Jittery Jet or Count Caffeine.

“Mike just told me he spit in someone’s latte yesterday ‘cause they called this kid a fag, right in front of him,” Frank says to no one in particular but Gerard figures he might be talking to him since he’s the one in front of the counter.

He turns around because maybe, Frank is talking to someone he knows who happens to be standing right behind Gerard, but no. There’s just a middle aged lady checking up her phone and not paying attention to anything that’s going on around her.

“He’s kidding. I don’t spit in anyone’s drink,” Frank’s colleague says, looking absolutely mortified as he elbows Frank in the ribs. “That’s Frank’s job,” he adds with a smirk as he adjusts his name tag on his apron. _Mike_

Mike is a nice guy. He started working here a few weeks before Frank. He can look very intimidating if you’ve never heard him speak, but he is soft spoken and always polite even though he’s also the kind of guy who doesn’t take anyone’s shit. He threw a customer out once because he was being rude to Frank.

“I’m sorry, man. Totally didn’t mean to say that out loud,” Frank mumbles. He ducks his head and disappears behind his colleague.

“Can I have a Grande white chocolate mocha?” Gerard asks Mike, craning his neck so he can still see Frank.

“Sure, you can.”

“With five shots of espresso, please.”

“Sure. With whipped cream?

Gerard nods. It’s a routine they have every morning. Mike probably knows Gerard’s order by heart right now but he still asks him, as if one day, Gerard could switch to decaf. Just the thought makes him shudder.

“White mocha. Five shots. With whipped cream,” Mike tells Frank. He pats him on the shoulder and turns back to Gerard. “Anything else?”

“No.”

Gerard pays for his drink, shuffles to the side of the counter and stares at Frank while he’s putting the finishing touch to his mocha. Frank always puts too much whipped cream on it but Gerard doesn’t mind. He likes his coffee extra sweet. Besides, saying something about it would actually mean saying actual words to Frank.

He smiles at Gerard and hands him his cup. Gerard wishes their fingers would touch, even just for a second. It’s a wish he makes every day and it never comes true because the universe hates Gerard and doesn’t want him to be happy. But when Gerard reaches to grab the cup, Frank’s fingers linger in for a second too long and they brush up against Gerard’s. They’re soft and warm and Gerard wants this micro-second to last forever.

Of course, it doesn’t.

Gerard’s dick twitches in his pants and he almost drops his coffee. He spills some on his hand but doesn’t even cringe when it burns his skin. He stares down at his shoes and goes straight for his seat in the corner, hoping Frank won’t notice he has a boner.

Apart from the embarrassment of getting a hard on in public (which happened before on one occasion but Gerard would rather forget about it), Gerard thinks that maybe today is his lucky day. Maybe today is the day he will be able to go up to Frank and talk to him, ask him out on a date. Maybe today will be different. He finally got to touch Frank, and even though it wasn’t for long or even intentional, it was still awesome.

*

It’s Saturday and Gerard has to go to work even if he’d rather stay and stare at Frank some more because that’s a much better use of his time and he might get another chance to touch Frank’s fingers by the end of his shift.

When Gerard gets to work, a few minutes late, his manager Chris doesn’t give him shit like he usually does. In fact, he’s oddly quiet. Gerard braces himself for a ten hour shift from hell, wishing every customer would leave him alone and that no one would even try and talk to him at all today.

The cool thing is that it actually happens.

Gerard has the quietest shift since he started working this job. It’s so quiet that he manages to get a long break while he’s restocking the children’s book section and spends two hours sitting on the floor, reading everything he’s supposed to be putting up on the shelves.

Most days, Gerard wishes he had a better job, or at least more hours at this one. He likes working at Barnes & Noble because he’s around books twenty hours a week and it beats any other shitty job he’s ever had, but it’s not enough. He’s tired of living with his parents because he can’t afford to pay his own rent. He’s twenty five now and out of school and he should be doing something more meaningful than stocking shelves.

When he’s about to leave at the end of his shift, Chris comes up to him. Instead of firing him like Gerard had thought (and maybe hoped), he clears his throat and asks, “Would you like working more hours, Gerard?”

Gerard nods.

“Well, Marcy just told me she’s leaving us next week and you’re the only guy I have who’s available to take her shift. You interested in working full time?” he asks, his lips crooked like he’s already regretting his decision--or like it wasn’t even his decision in the first place.

Gerard nods again and mumbles, “I guess.”

“You’ll have to cover both her shift and yours until I find someone to replace you on the weekends. Is that okay?”

Gerard nods once more. He’s probably going to die of exhaustion by the middle of the week but that’s okay. He needs the money to buy coffee and cigarettes and probably some art supplies. He can be a grown up for once. He can do this. After all, it’s what he wished for.

*

Frank hands Gerard his white chocolate mocha and looks at the huge clock on the wall behind him. He’s not smiling today so there’s probably something wrong with him. Gerard is grabbing a stack of napkin from the dispenser on his way to his corner when he overhears Frank talking about Dickhead.

“He’s fucking late and we were supposed to go to the movies tonight,” he tells Mike as he takes off his apron. “He’s the one who insisted we go see that shit flick. If he’s not here by 6, would you mind taking me home?”

“Sure, man.”

“Thanks.”

“Maybe he’s just stuck in traffic,” Mike says with a shrug. “And if he bails out, you can always dump him.”

Gerard wishes Dickhead would fucking disappear off the face of the planet because he doesn’t deserve Frank. They haven’t been dating for that long, but they are not meant to be together. It’s so obvious, and Mike sees it, too.

In a perfect world, Gerard would be the one taking Frank to the movies. He would be the one putting his hands under Frank’s apron. He would be the one making Frank laugh. Too bad Frank is dating a major dickhead instead of him.

The blond girl with all the piercings and the crazy hair colors, and the tall dude with the afro take their shift at 6 while Gerard watches the door, hopeful that Dickhead won’t be coming through it. Maybe he really did disappear and Frank will have to break up with him because he’s too much of a dickhead to exist.

It’s half past six and Dickhead doesn’t show. Frank waits around for a little while, sitting at one of the tables with Mike, staring at his phone and looking more than pissed off that he’s been stood up.

Gerard can’t hear what they’re talking about but then Frank starts laughing at something Mike says and drops his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. When they leave together and head for the parking lot, Gerard finishes his coffee, a smile on his lips. Maybe today really is Gerard’s lucky day.

*

Dickhead doesn’t resurface the next day. He’s not here to pick up Frank after his shift on Monday either, but Frank doesn’t look like he minds. He actually looks just like any other day, a big smile on his face even though he’s at the end of a long shift and he’s probably tired of talking to customers.

Gerard is there during his lunch break because he’d rather drink coffee than having to brown bag like he did in high school. Besides, who eats real food nowadays? Coffee and cigarettes are the only things Gerard needs in his diet.

While he’s picking up his order, Gerard wishes he could say something to Frank today, anything as long as they’re words. He opens his mouth and mumbles, “Thanks for the extra whipped cream.”

He blushes as soon as the words are out of his mouth. That wasn’t witty or even that interesting. Gerard was just being his usual awkward self.

Frank smiles and says, “You’re welcome.”

Then he gives Gerard a wink which makes Gerard weak in the knees and makes him forget everything, including that he’s holding a hot cup of coffee in his hands.

“Always figured you were a sweet guy who likes sweet things,” Frank adds, his smile widening.

Gerard’s hands start shaking. He squeezes his to-go cup a little harder and some coffee spills onto the floor, a few drops landing on his ratty Chucks.

Frank frowns and Gerard can see his lips move. He’s talking to him again but Gerard can’t hear him because the sound of his own heart racing like it’s trying to break out of his chest is masking everything else.

“What?”

“I’ll clean that up for you,” Frank says, his voice coming from far away. He circles the counter and goes to grab a mop and a bucket in the backroom.

When he comes back, Gerard is still standing at the exact same spot because he can’t seem to remember how to use his legs. He’s staring at his cup of coffee and the whipped cream that’s floating on top of it.

“I’m done for the day but I could make you another one real quick,” Frank offers as he tries to grab the cup from Gerard’s hands. “On the house.”

“No. This one’s fine,” Gerard grumbles.

He shuffles his feet and heads back to work, forcing himself not to look back at Frank because he’s probably laughing at him.

*

It takes another weird occurrence at work before Gerard’s caffeine-deprived brain figures out there’s something really weird happening to him, that it’s not just a series of coincidences.

He makes a wish about getting a raise and it immediately happens. He gets called into Chris’ office and gets a fucking raise even though he doesn’t deserve one. He’s been slacking off a lot this week to make up for the new crazy hours and the last thing he should get is a fucking raise.

The first thing he does when he gets off work is call Mikey because if anyone can find an explanation for this, it’s him.

“You wouldn’t believe what just happened,” he says as soon as his brother picks up.

“You just decapitated a zombie using a pen knife?” Mikey asks, his voice monotone. He sounds like he just got out of bed which is a possibility since it’s four in the afternoon and Mikey was out really late last night.

Gerard shakes his head even though Mikey can’t see him. “No. Something way cooler than that.”

“There’s nothing cooler than that, Gerard.”

“I got a fucking raise.”

There’s a short silence and then Mikey asks, “Why?”

“Because I’m good at my job?”

“No, seriously. Why?”

Gerard should probably feel a little offended but he really can’t. There is no plausible explanation for him getting a raise other than something supernatural. “Something weird is happening to me,” he says as he walks down to his car.

“Like that time you thought a gnome was hiding under your bed and stealing all your socks so he could knit sweaters out of them for his gnome family?”

“No. I think all my wishes are coming true.”

There’s a moment of silence and a crack at the other end of the line. Gerard pulls the phone away and checks that Mikey is still here; that he didn’t hang up on him.

When Gerard puts the phone back to his ear, Mikey lets out a loud yawn and mumbles, “That’s wicked cool. Did you rub a bottle with a genie inside lately?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Does your penis have a genie inside? Cause you did rub it a lot this week.”

“Mikey, quit being a jerkface. I’m fucking serious.”

“How many wishes have you made so far?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t count them.” There was the one about touching Frank and the one about getting a raise. He’s not sure the one about working more hours counted or if it was a coincidence. He doesn’t think it counts, because it was total misery. That shouldn’t count, right?

“Why does that matter, anyway?”

“Usually, people get three wishes so maybe you should wish you had a million dollars just to see if it still works.”

“Mikey, I don’t…” Gerard stops in front of his car and ponders. That’s actually not a bad idea. It’s not like he has anything to lose. “I wish I had a million dollars,” he says, his voice loud, his eyes closed in case it helps.

When Gerard opens his eyes again, he’s still standing outside his car, in the Barnes & Noble parking lot, his phone clutched against his ear. He looks around but there’s no bag of money at his feet. There’s a woman staring at him from the other side of the parking lot, frowning like he’s a giant weirdo but that’s it.

“Did it work? Are you rich?” Mikey asks a few seconds later.

“No.” This is stupid. There is no such thing as genies and people don’t get what they want just by wishing it.

“There you go. Problem solved. See you later. Mom says to buy mac n cheese on your way home or you don’t get dinner.”

“Okay,” Gerard replies with a sigh. “Bye, Mikes.”

As he sits behind the wheel, he realizes that even though this whole thing was stupid in the first place, he’s still mildly disappointed. It would have been nice to be able to have a superpower and be exceptional. It would have been nice to feel like he was actually in control of his life for once.

*

“What are you doing here?” Chris asks when Gerard shows up to work on Monday morning after a short weekend of doing nothing but watching horror movies, getting his ass kicked at video games by Mikey, Bob and Ray, and hanging out at their favorite diner after getting high during a re-watch of the Golden Girls.

Gerard shrugs because he’s not really sure he understands. “I’m not late,” he says, checking his watch just to make sure. He doesn’t particularly want to be here but at least, he made it on time today.

“Why did you miss your shift this weekend?” Chris asks as he stands in Gerard’s way to the staff room. “Were you too high to remember you had a job?”

No. Gerard didn’t miss his shift. He wasn’t supposed to come in his weekend. Chris told him he didn’t have to come. “No. I thought—”

Chris rolls his eyes and smirks. Gerard really wants to punch his teeth in but he doesn’t feel like causing a scene; a small crowd of customers and Barnes & Noble employees are already staring at them.

“It’s nice to hear that you occasionally use your brain but that doesn’t make up for the fact that you didn’t show up to work and I had to call someone in to replace you. And hey, they’re doing a better job than you and they actually show up on time.”

“I thought I didn’t have to work.”

Gerard worked an entire week on a full time shift. This is not right. “This isn’t right,” he says out loud, looking around him for support, but of course, no one has his back. No one really gives a shit about Gerard here.

“You’re fired,” Chris says, his chest rising like he’s actually proud of himself, like he’s been meaning to do this a long time ago. “Take your severance check from HR and go away.”

Gerard opens his mouth and lets out an undignified noise, something resembling a high pitched squeak. He stays where he is for a few seconds and then shuffles his feet, trying to remember where HR is. He doesn’t remember wishing this. He probably did; a thousand times before. He always thought he could do better than this and maybe this is his chance to prove it.

It’s not like wishing it would make a difference since this wish superpower thing or whatever this might have been isn’t real.

The thing is, he’s out of a job now and his parents are going to fucking kill him when he comes home. For a second, Gerard wishes he didn’t have to go home; or at least not right away. Maybe he doesn’t have to tell his parents he’s been fired today.

*

Gerard is still dumbfounded and more than pissed off at Chris as he walks back to his car. He doesn’t remember driving to Starbucks but ends up sitting at his usual spot with his mocha and his severance check balanced against the side of the cup.

What is he supposed to do now? Get another job? Who would want to hire him? It’s not like people want to hire you when you don’t have much experience in anything but drawing comic book characters and doodling on Starbucks napkins.

“Bad day?” asks a voice Gerard doesn’t recognize right away. It’s deep and gravely but still very familiar.

Gerard looks up from his cup of coffee, and just like that, Frank is suddenly in his line of vision. He’s clearing the table next to Gerard’s and not really looking at him. Maybe he wasn’t talking to him.

“What?” Gerard asks, just to make sure.

“You having a bad day?” Frank repeats, a little slower, and this time he turns to Gerard and gives him a small but warm smile. “You look like someone just shot your puppy.”

Gerard shrugs. He’s had worse but this one is probably in the top five. If only he could wish for a do over…it would probably end up exactly the same way.

“I can tell. You barely touched your whipped cream,” Frank says as he points to Gerard’s mocha with his chin. “You’re usually all over that shit.”

Gerard pokes at the cream with his wooden stirrer and looks up at Frank.

“Well, if that makes you feel better, I’m not having the best day either.”

“Really?” Gerard mumbles in a low voice that ends up being swallowed by the noises of clinking dishes and Mike shouting something at Frank from the cash register.

“My manager is being a dick. Anyway, I brought you this,” Frank says, producing a chocolate cupcake from God knows where.

Gerard didn’t know Frank could do magic tricks.

“I thought you might need something nice to brighten up your day.”

Gerard takes the cupcake and Frank’s fingers brush up against the palm of Gerard’s hand. Gerard shudders at the contact and bites his lower lip.

“Things always start to look up after you eat chocolate,” Frank says with a nod. “It’s a scientific fact.”

Gerard smiles and takes a careful bite out of the cupcake. It’s not like he thinks it’s poisonous or anything of the sort. He’s afraid Frank might change his mind, or that he will get chocolate icing all over his face and look ridiculous. He’s licking his lips, ready to thank Frank, when the door chimes and Dickhead makes his entrance.

“Piece of shit,” Frank whispers between gritted teeth. He makes his way back behind the counter while Gerard is working on his cupcake and watching Dickhead’s face as it blanches. The asshole is probably here to try and win Frank back.

“Frank,” he says, cutting in front of five people to be first in line. He even elbows some woman on his way up there because he’s a dickhead and that’s what dickheads do.

The woman opens her mouth to protest but Dickhead doesn’t give her a chance. “Frank, we need to talk.”

Frank sighs. He and Mike exchange a knowing look. Mike nods which Gerard totally interprets as, “Go take care of your dickhead boyfriend,” even though it’s not in so many words, but Gerard totally knows Mike’s non-verbal cues, and the realization of that makes Gerard pause for just a moment, but not for long, because he’s too interested in what Frank’s going to say.

Frank beckons Dickhead to join him by the side of the counter. He doesn’t say a word until Dickhead is standing there, awkward for the first time of his life, looking completely out of place.

“Where were you?” Frank asks, before proceeding to make Dickhead a latte. “You’ve disappeared for an entire week.”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“You got wasted and blacked out. Not like it hasn’t happened to you before, right? And don’t fucking say you don’t know, ‘cause I can smell bullshit a mile away.”

“I fucking swear to God, I don’t know.”

Dickhead’s voice is too loud for this place and Frank gives him a disapproving look before shoving him into a corner, which also happens to be Gerard’s corner. Dickhead shoves Frank right back but apparently, he’s a lot weaker than he looks because Frank barely sways on his feet.

“I called you all week. Did you forget you had a phone? Or a boyfriend?”

“I didn’t. I’m fucking telling you I don’t know.”

“Well, I sort of forgot I had a boyfriend too and it’s working out pretty good for me,” Frank says, and Gerard wants to get up and kiss him on the spot because he’s just that great.

Dickhead shakes his head. “Frank. You’re not—”

“I am. Forget my number. That’d be great,” Frank says as he walks back being the counter.

Dickhead follows him, giving Gerard the stink eye for no apparent reason. “Come on, Frank,” he says as he attempts to grab Frank by the wrist. “Don’t be a bitch about this. I’m trying to explain.”

“You’re a douchebag. Always have been. I don’t know why I even dated a douche like you for that long. I guess I should actually start dating this guy I like.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Iero?”

Frank flashes a row of white teeth at Dickhead.

“This is not over. I’m gonna fuck you up,” Dickhead says as he marches towards the door.

“Don’t forget your free latte,” Frank calls after Dickhead. He shoves the cup in Dickhead’s shaking hands and gives him one of his biggest, most forced grins. “Please, don’t come again and have a shitty day.”

Everyone watches as Dickhead exits the Starbucks, looking pathetic and so pissed off he throws his latte across the parking lot in an overly dramatic gesture. Gerard observes a moment of silence for the wasted coffee, but he totally wants to cheer. Frank’s a badass!

There is a short moment where everyone is looking at each other, kind of unsure if they should resume what they were doing. Then Frank bursts out laughing and gives Mike a high five.

“That was awesome,” Mike says before turning to the next customer to take her order.

Gerard barely resists the urge to get off his chair and clap. Instead he takes another bite out of his cupcake, thinking that maybe, Frank was right. Everything is so much better after you had chocolate. His day is already looking up.

*

Now that Dickhead is out of the way, Gerard doesn’t have any excuse not to go and ask Frank out.

He shows up at Starbucks for every one of Frank shifts, wondering how to start up a conversation with him, wondering if spilling all his drinks could be a good idea or make him look like a complete spazz. Looking like a spazz in the movies usually works, but Gerard is no movie heroine. Maybe Christina Ricci, but no. She’d have no problem asking Frankie out.

He rehearses a couple of things in his head but is too chicken-shit to actually go up to Frank and talk to him.

He could start by saying his name but that would be sort of obvious. He could also compliment Frank on his coffee making skills but that would be lame. Maybe if Frank gave him something to work with it would make things easier for him. Gerard wishes Frank would come by his table and say something to him, anything.

A minute later, Gerard is staring at him from behind the rim of his coffee cup when Frank walks up to his corner and starts clearing up his table.

“Having a better day today?” he asks, picking up one of the napkins where Gerard doodled a bunch of random monsters.

Frank looks at it for a few seconds and gives Gerard a huge grin before slipping the napkin in the pocket of his apron. “I know it’s weird but I like keeping your art. Maybe one day it’ll be worth something and I can stop working here,” he says, resuming clearing up Gerard’s mess.

Instead of saying something intelligent, Gerard hums and buries his nose in the whipped cream of his mocha. _Literally._ He quickly wipes the tip of his nose clean before Frank can notice anything.

“I mean it, you know. You’re great. You should do graphic novels.”

“Thanks. They’re nothing special.”

Frank clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head. “No false modesty here, dude. You know you’re awesome.”

Gerard wants to tell Frank it’s not false modesty and that he hates pretty much everything he draws but that would require too much effort. He blushes and pretends he’s busy reading the contents of a packet of sweetener.

As soon as Frank goes back behind his counter, Gerard picks up a new napkin and starts drawing something he might leave on the table just for Frank. He grabs a pen and gets to work, keeping an eye on Frank and wondering if he should give this wish thing another try.

*

Gerard gets a phone call at ass o’clock the next morning. He’s barely awake when he picks up, his feet still tangled up in the sheets. He needs his fucking coffee because this is too early for this shit.

“We made a mistake on your account,” a voice announces at the other end of the line. It’s a woman’s voice. She says her name is Mrs. Jennie Something and works at Gerard’s bank. _What the actual fuck?_

Gerard rolls out of bed and blinks at the bleary light outside of his window. He had hoped not having to go to work would mean he could sleep in, but that’s apparently out of the question now. “A mistake?”

“Your balance, Sir. We think our computers are to be blamed for the error.”

“What do you mean my balance?” As far as Gerard knows, he has something like fifty dollars to his name and nothing else. He’ll have a bit more when he puts his severance check from Barnes & Noble in but right now, that’s all he has.

“Don’t worry, we fixed it and now your balance is back to eighty one dollars and forty five cents. Once again, we apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Way.”

“Hey, I don’t understand. What do you mean by mistake?”

“The balance was off by one million dollars,” the woman says, lowering her voice. “We checked with your mother last week because we couldn’t reach you. She couldn’t help us so we investigated and realized the error came from our side. We really do apologize, Mr. Way.”

So it worked. Gerard wished he had a million dollars and it worked. It didn’t appear at his feet but on his bank account. It didn’t last long but it still worked. This changes everything. Maybe Gerard could make another wish now. Maybe he could wish for something he really wants He’s not really sure it still works and if it would be permanent but it’s worth a shot.

“I wish I had waffles for breakfast?”

It’s not something huge but Gerard prefers to start slow, and can’t really think about anything else he wants besides his morning coffee and an entire pack of cigarettes. So Gerard wishes he had a fresh pack of Marlboros and a pot of coffee to go with the waffles.

He climbs up the stairs and makes his way to the kitchen, feeling ridiculous that he made such a shit wish. Maybe after this one, he can up the scales a bit and wish for something more extravagant, like a new car or a brand new Wacom Graphic tablet.

The waffles are right here on the counter, still warm and buttery, waiting for him. There’s also a pack of his favorite brand of smokes and a pot of coffee. He ponders for a moment. Maybe the waffles will disappear or turn into something else if he waits long enough. Maybe the pack of cigarettes is empty and maybe the coffee will taste like it always tastes here, like watered down piss.

“I made you waffles,” his mom says as he stares at the plate, still unsure if he should eat the waffles or marvel that he wished them into existence. “Mikey told me you lost your job last week and I figured you might need some comfort.”

“Thanks, mom.” They never have waffles in this house and Gerard didn’t even know they owned a waffle iron.

“You should have told us. You know we won’t kick you out.”

“Sorry,” Gerard says as he grabs the plate. He sets it on the kitchen table and starts thinking about his next wish.

“Maybe you should look for something that’s more…” his mom starts, but then Gerard tunes her out.

What if the thing with Dickhead was one of his wishes? It would mean that nothing he wishes for lasts longer than a week, two at the most.

If he wished for something like a new job or an apartment, maybe he would get thrown out within a couple of days. Maybe he should keep the wishes for simpler things, like delicious waffles and an endless supply of cigarettes.

Now that he’s thinking about it, maybe this wish thing is actually a curse. If he wishes for something he really wants, like say, Frank. He makes the wish that they’re together and then Frank ends up hating his guts or forgetting they were ever together. Gerard lost his job because of this. What if he loses Frank too?

That’s it. Gerard has to be strong. He has to be patient and do things the normal way. Superheroes never use their powers to get what they want. It’s not right and Gerard wants to woo Frank by being himself. Even if it takes him forever.

*

“What are you going to do now that you have superpowers?” Ray asks him before passing the bowl of popcorn to him. He’s smirking at Gerard because, of course, he’s not taking any of this seriously.

“He doesn’t,” Mikey says with a shrug.

They’re having a George Romero marathon in the Way’s living room this weekend and popcorn is the only snack they have since Mikey is a little shit and didn’t think of buying groceries when he was supposed to. Maybe Gerard should wish for a pizza or for an endless refill of Code Red Mountain Dew.

Gerard passes the bowl to Mikey without touching the popcorn. Maybe one of his friends could just get up and order the fucking pizza already so they don’t starve.

“I mean, if it was a real thing, you could wish for an iPad and then it would appear, right?” Ray asks, giving Gerard a hopeful grin.

“I’m not wishing for an iPad, Ray.”

“You could wish for Cheetos,” Bob says, making a face at the popcorn. “That would be the humane thing to do, you asshole.”

“I can’t do that.”

Gerard could actually do that but he doesn’t want to make any more wishes until he gets the hang out of this power. He’s not sure he won’t have some karmic kick in the nuts in return if he spends any wish on Cheetos or pizza or fucking Mountain Dew.

“You suck and your pretend superpower sucks too,” Mikey mumbles through a mouthful of popcorn.

Gerard chooses to ignore him because it’s his fault if they’re snacking on microwave popcorn.

“Yeah. I’m not buying it,” Ray says with a frown. “Not until I have my iPad.”

 _Great_. They’re all being jerks because Gerard doesn’t want to be irresponsible with his wishes. If he could, he would just give his power to one of them and see how it turns out. They would probably do just as bad as he is doing right now.

A man is being torn apart by zombies and his screams are so loud that they almost drown Mikey’s voice when he asks, “Did you test your thing on Frank yet?”

“No. I don’t think I should.”

The bowl of popcorn is back in Gerard’s lap and Ray leans it to grab a handful of kernels. “Yeah. That would be wrong or something,” he comments, grinning at the maiming that’s happening on screen. “You know?”

“Yeah.” Gerard shouldn’t even be thinking about it. It all just seems like a big joke; just another obstacle for him to struggle with.

“I don’t think it would be wrong. You’ve been talking about this guy for almost two months,” Mikey provides, gabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning the volume up a notch although it’s already loud enough as it is. “Superpower or not, you should just go for it already.”

“I think you should wish you had the balls to talk to him or something. You could use some balls,” Bob adds before getting off the couch. He comes back a few seconds later with his phone and asks, “Meat lovers pizza for everyone?”

Gerard nods and pushes the bowl of popcorn across the table. He might have to try and make that wish when he goes back to Starbucks tomorrow. Not the balls part but the one about talking to Frank.

*

Gerard is weak. He really tries to be patient and plants napkins with drawings Frank might like in plain sight but it doesn’t do anything. He wishes he could talk to Frank but ends up babbling at him about needing some more napkins. After a week of not being able to talk to Frank like a normal human being, he caves in. There is so much humiliation he can take.

Frank barely even looks at him when he gives him his mocha and Gerard loses the entirety of the English language the only time Frank asks him a question.

Maybe it will be different this time. Maybe Gerard can make it last because it’s something he’s been wanting for so long.

“I wish Frank was my boyfriend,” he says out loud while he’s alone in the kitchen, staring down a bowl of soggy cereal.

This wasn’t so hard. He lets out a nervous giggle and looks around. Frank doesn’t magically appear but apparently, that’s not how it works. Or at least Gerard doesn’t think it does. This wish thing should have come with an instruction manual.

He gets dressed and heads off to Glen Ridge to get his morning coffee, a little nervous and jittery. Maybe he shouldn’t have done this. Maybe he should have wished for something less important than that.

When Gerard gets to Starbucks, Frank is there, looking adorable in his apron, grinning and making dick jokes with Mike. There’s nothing unusual about this and Gerard thinks that he probably did it wrong. Maybe it’s over and he used up all of his wishes on stupid stuff like waffles, and now, he can’t have this. Or maybe it doesn’t work on boyfriends. It would have been too easy.

Gerard is lost in his thoughts and doesn’t notice he’s next in line until Frank leans across the counter and runs his fingers over Gerard’s forearm.

That is definitely unusual.

“White chocolate mocha with five shots of espresso and extra whipped cream,” he says, producing a fresh cup of coffee and pushing it across the counter even before Gerard has time to place his order. “I saw you parking your car outside and I figured I’d better get your coffee ready.”

“Hmm. Thanks.”

Mike clears his throat and quirks an eyebrow, like he’s not really sure what’s going on. Gerard isn’t sure he knows either. Are they past the asking out point and already dating?

“Would you like to go for a drink this weekend? Frank asks, swatting Gerard’s hand away when he tries to pay for his drink.

“Huh.”

“Look,” Frank says, grabbing at the hem of Gerard’s t-shirt, “I’d really like to go out with you. You’re a sweet guy and I like you a lot. Please, have a drink with me.”

This is it. It’s Gerard’s wish. Now he just needs to say yes and enjoy it while it lasts. “I. Huh. Okay.”

Frank beams at him. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Gerard repeats, trying not to swallow his tongue when Frank’s fingers skid along his side.

Is Frank really hitting on him or is Gerard still in bed and dreaming this? Because generally, the next thing that happens is a lot let PG-13.

“Rad. My name’s Frank,” he says as he lets go of Gerard, “but you probably knew already.”

Gerard hides his grin behind the rim of his cup of coffee and mumbles, “I did. It’s on your nametag.”

Frank stands there, looking up at Gerard like he’s expecting something from him. “I can keep on calling you hot pants if you don’t want to tell me your name. That’s fine by me,” he finally says before tending to the next customer.

Gerard can feel himself blush. There are worst nicknames than _hot pants_. “Gerard,” he mumbles, squeezing his cup of coffee and taking a side step to let the next customer through to their order.

“I liked hot pants better,” Frank says with a crooked smile. He lets out a tiny giggle and punches Gerard’s shoulder, playful and definitely flirting with him. “I’m kidding. I like Gerard.”

*

“The problem with ice cream is that you don’t know when to stop eating it. Should you keep at it until you can’t feel your teeth anymore or until you’re like halfway through the thing?” Mikey asks as he plunges his spoon inside the tub of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia once more.

“Or until you’re completely done?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

It’s Friday night and they’re at home being dateless losers and watching reality TV because Gerard is still on the fence about the Frank thing. Gerard isn’t sure why Mikey isn’t out with his friends tonight. Maybe he’s just staying home out of solidarity for his asocial older brother. Even Ray and Bob had other plans tonight.

“Frank asked me out.”

“Cool.”

“I wished it.”

Mikey drops his spoon and turns to Gerard, adjusting his glasses back up on his nose. “So this thing does work and you wished for him?”

“It does and I did.”

Mikey’s eyes grow wide and a hint of a smile appears on the corner of his lips. “Did you ever get your million dollars?”

“I did but not for long. The wishes seem to have an expiration date.”

“Like ice cream.”

Gerard nods even though that’s really beside the point. “If I go out with Frank, I’m pretty sure this thing will blow up in my face,” he says as he pops the first button of his jeans open.

“Or he’ll blow you and you will come all over his face,” Mikey mumbles, deadpan before turning back to the TV.

“What if Frank wakes up while we’re, I don’t know,” Gerard says as he pulls on the loose threads of the comforter they’re sitting on, choosing to ignore Mikey’s joke because a part of him would like it to come true. Maybe he could wish it.

“Making out?” Mikey provides with a nod.

“Yeah.” Or something else; something more intimate although Gerard isn’t sure they’ll ever get to that point. He doesn’t know how long they have.

“Did you consider for a second that Frank might have asked you out because he likes you?”

Gerard shrugs. That’s something he never considered because it’s not possible. Mikey is stupid for even suggesting it.

“No. He doesn’t. It was my wish. I wished he was my boyfriend and now he wants to have a drink with me.”

“Ok. Well, how about you enjoy his company for as long as you can and learn as much as you can about him, what he likes, his favorite bands and stuff. And then when this is over you can seduce him with your new knowledge. Like Bill Murray in Groundhog day.”

This is actually not a bad idea. Now, Gerard just has to go on the date which might be the hardest part.

“Also, I think you should stop eating ice cream when you feel like puking it back,” Mikey adds after a minute, shoving what’s left of his tub in Gerard’s hands and making gross barfing sounds.

*

They agreed to meet at a Chili’s on Saturday night for a couple of drinks. It shouldn’t be such a big deal because Chili’s isn’t a classy sort of place but Gerard feels sick as he drives up there, thinking that maybe he shouldn’t have made that wish; that maybe there is a way to reverse it so he doesn’t have to go.

Even though the wish makes it so that Gerard is almost guaranteed to have a boyfriend at the end of the date, he’s still nervous that he might do or say something that will fuck everything up.

He gets there a few minutes late because he can’t find a spot to park in a three mile radius of the stupid place. Frank is already there, standing by the door and looking a bit nervous as he chews on his fingernails and spits on the sidewalk.

Gerard wants to apologize for being late but Frank doesn’t let him. He grabs Gerard’s hand and drags him inside the over-crowded Chili’s.

“Listen, I thought we could get a drink here and talk but if you’d rather go somewhere less…” he pauses and gestures at the bar, “busy, we can go somewhere else. Anywhere you’d like.”

Gerard doesn’t really mind. At least, he can disappear in the crowd if anything goes wrong. He also likes it that it’s loud. With any luck, he won’t have to do much talking. That’s the only upside about picking a fucking Chili’s on a Saturday night.

“Here is fine,” he says, wondering if he should link his fingers with Frank’s. His hand feels numb right now, like it’s not really his anymore, like it’s too big. All he can feel is the warmth radiating from Frank’s skin.

They manage to get a table five minutes later because it appears that Frank knows a guy here, one of the waiters. For a little while, Gerard doesn’t say much. He hides being his menu, takes forever to pick what he wants to eat, and gives mono-syllabic answers when Frank asks him questions. Then Frank starts talking about Gerard’s art which leads him to talking about comic books and Gerard relaxes a bit. That’s a subject he knows well and so he’s more than willing to engage Frank.

By the time their entrees are served, Gerard is blabbering like an idiot with some kind of bad case of verbal diarrhea about Vertigo Comics and why they need to give him a call and hire him to do some penciling.

It’s not because he’s drunk. He’s only had one drink so far and he’s not really planning on drinking anymore because he’s too busy talking about comics.

Frank doesn’t look like he wants him to shut up. He’s watching Gerard with so much interest, his chin resting on his fist, nodding and occasionally voicing his opinion on superheroes and why some of them suck. Maybe it’s because of the wish; maybe Frank doesn’t really care that much about comics and is just pretending he does to put Gerard at ease.

As far as date go, Gerard would say this one is probably the best he’s had. He didn’t have many so there’s not much ground for comparison. It’s late when Gerard heads back to his car and Frank insists on walking with him.

“I don’t want you to get mugged,” he says with a crooked smile.

It’s not the worst part of town but Gerard still appreciates the attention. He lets Frank snake an arm around his waist about half way to where he’s parked because the area is deserted and there’s very little chance they’ll get in trouble for a public display of affection.

He does get goose bumps when he feels Frank’s fingers slide against his hip. This is the closest they’ve ever been and this is the first time they’re actually touching without it being a lucky accident.

When they get to Gerard’s piece of shit car, Frank doesn’t let go of him. He reaches up to cup Gerard’s cheek with his free hand and pushes him up against the side of the car.

“It was fun,” Frank says, his voice almost a whisper as he leans closer, his thumb stroking Gerard’s cheek. “I’m not usually this...” He pauses and makes a hand gesture at the sky, as if it could help him find the right word. “…this forward on a first date but I really like you and I’d like to kiss you goodnight if you don’t mind.”

Gerard’s heart skips a beat and then races to make up for it. He lets out a groan instead of a proper answer. He licks his lips and ducks his head because Frank is staring right into his eyes and it’s making Gerard uncomfortable; a little like he’s standing naked in front of him.

Frank lets go of Gerard’s waist and heaves a sigh. “Ok then.”

Gerard isn’t sure Frank means they’re not going to kiss until Frank is actually pressing his lips against his. It doesn’t last more than a few seconds but it’s enough to get Gerard into a weird sort of post kiss trance. He’s unable to open his eyes for the longest time, like his eyelids are glued together. He breathes through his open mouth and something stirs in the pit of his stomach.

When Gerard opens his eyes again, Frank is smiling at him, his head cocked to the side like he’s maybe wondering what the fuck is wrong with Gerard.

“I guess I should go now,” he says, his fingers running along Gerard’s jaw and his thumb lingering for a second on Gerard’s lips. “We should do this again some time.”

“Yeah.” Gerard’s voice comes out as croaky and so fucking needy he’s embarrassed by it.

Frank lets out a giggle. “How about tomorrow?” he asks, his fingers curling in Gerard’s hair. “You pick where you want to go for our second date and I’ll be there.”

That’s a lot of pressure because Gerard has no idea where to take Frank. He’d rather they stayed at Gerard’s and made out on his bed while Mikey was out.

“Or I could come by your place? I don’t really mind.”

Gerard didn’t wish that Frank could read his thoughts. He’s sure of that.

“Yeah,” Gerard replies, kind of glad he doesn’t have to spell it out to Frank.

He feels some familiar warmth in his stomach. His dick throbs as a reminder that it’s still here and might need some attention very soon because Gerard is standing way too close to Frank.

A car honks somewhere down the street and Gerard takes it as his cue to climb into his car before he pops a boner. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and bites his bottom lip, trying to figure out which one will open his car door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Frank says, planting a gentle kiss on the corner of Gerard’s lips.

He pulls away, his fingers sliding off Gerard’s face. Then he heads back in the direction of the Chili’s where he probably parked.

Gerard manages to get inside his car but spends at least five minutes touching his lips. He can still feel Frank. He can feel his lips and his fingers, kissing and touching him. Gerard shuts his eyes and he can see Frank leaning in.

As he’s driving home, a grin on his face, Gerard cannot help but wonder if Frank would have kissed him without the wish. If Frank hadn’t been under the influence of some supernatural power, would he even accept to go out with Gerard?

*

Gerard can’t sleep. He keeps tossing and turning in bed because he cannot make his brain to shut off. All he can think about is how he’s a terrible person. Kissing Frank was probably the best thing that had ever happened to him but it didn’t make it less wrong.

Gerard is taking advantage of Frank. Frank isn’t his. Gerard made a stupid and selfish wish that Frank was his boyfriend and it happened and now, some part of him wants to make this all go away. If he wishes everything back to normal, he could lose Frank, but if he doesn’t, and lets this go on any longer, there is absolutely no guarantee it won’t explode in his face.

Frank might not remember they ever kissed when this is over; or maybe he will remember and will be pissed off at Gerard because he never meant to do that, and Gerard is a pervert and drugged him or something.

It’s almost morning when Mikey gets home; slightly drunk by the looks of it (he’s zigzagging his way to his bed and keeps bumping into everything). Of course, Gerard is still wide awake but he pretends he’s sleeping because it’s easier this way. He doesn’t want to tell Mikey about this. He doesn’t want Mikey to know Gerard is a terrible human being. But even drunk, Mikey can smell his brother’s bullshit which is really fucking impressive.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asks, the springs creaking as he flops onto his bed.

Gerard presses his face against his pillow and mumbles, “Can’t.”

He rolls onto his side and faces the wall. He doesn’t really want to talk about this; about the fact that what he’s doing isn’t right; that he’s basically taking advantage of Frank. He’s not using his powers for good and great justice. He’s using them to get the boy of his dreams. He’s a villain. He’s like Mister Nobody or Lex Luthor, but more pathetic.

“Did your date go well?”

“Yeah,” he says with a deep mournful sigh. If only he wasn’t such a terrible person he would have enjoyed it more.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Mikey says, sounding strangely sober. “You’ll woo him in no time. Trust me.”

Less than five minutes later, Mikey is snoring softly on the other side of the room and Gerard is still wide awake. He hates his life more than ever because the only thing he wants right now is to kiss Frank again.

*

“White chocolate mocha with five shots of espresso and extra whipped cream,” Frank says as he hands Gerard his drink.

Gerard nods and grabs the cup. He doesn’t wait for it to cool down because he needs all the caffeine he can get to function and doesn’t care if he burns his tongue. He’s sleep deprived and feeling like complete crap and coffee might not be enough to fix that today.

Actually, Gerard shouldn’t even be here this morning but once again, he’s weak and selfish and he doesn’t have anything better to do with his Sunday. Besides, he can’t stay away from Frank. He could try, but he doubts he would make it longer than a day without seeing Frank’s face.

Gerard keeps thinking about last night. As wrong as it might be, Gerard wants more. He needs to feel Frank on his lips again, his fingers in Gerard’s hair and his body pressed up against Gerard’s. He needs it even if it’s not real or if it’s not meant to last.

When Gerard is getting his fourth and possibly last cup of coffee of the day, Frank grabs his wrist and brushes his fingers over the back of Gerard’s hand. Then he leans over the counter and whispers in Gerard’s ear, “I’m looking forward to the end of my shift.”

“Me too,” Gerard replies with a sigh.

“I found the perfect movie to watch together,” Frank says, placing a free brownie in Gerard’s hand. “It has ninjas and cowboys and circus freaks. Fucking rad as hell if you want my opinion.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Damn right it is.”

Mike gives Gerard an inquisitive look. He might be wondering what the hell is wrong with Frank today and why he’s flirting with a customer he was probably making fun of not two days ago.

Frank’s shift ends ten minutes later and Gerard decides to make himself scarce before Mike rips his head off and makes a necklace out of his guts.

He waits patiently, sitting in his corner nursing his mocha while Frank is grabbing his coat and joking with his colleagues about something Mike said to a customer this morning; something about extra foamy lattes that Gerard doesn’t really get, but it’s probably some Starbucks inside joke or one of these things you had to be there to appreciate.

They’re alone in the parking lot when Frank takes Gerard’s hand and links their fingers together. It’s probably one of the best feelings in the world and Gerard’s chest feels full, like his heart grew a few sizes to the contact of Frank’s fingers and is ready to explode.

“I’ve been waiting to do that all day,” Frank says with a smile, squeezing Gerard’s fingers ever so slightly.

They get home a few minutes later after a short but eventful drive during which Frank seemed very keen on screwing with the radio with one hand and caressing Gerard’s thigh with the other.

As soon as they’re home, they head straight for Gerard’s room, avoiding the rest of the house in case they would run into Gerard’s mom. In case this isn’t permanent, Gerard prefers to keep this as low key as possible because his mom has a history of inviting everyone Gerard’s ever dated for dinner. He’d rather not make this more awkward than it already is.

That’s probably why he’s been avoiding Ray and Bob too these past few days. He’d like keep this thing a secret for the time being even though he knows they’d understand.

The room is a mess but it’s mostly Mikey’s side so they should be fine. Gerard spent ten minutes this morning making sure nothing too incriminating was lying around. He pushed his pile of dirty laundry underneath the bed and changed the sheets because they were disgusting.

“You have a roommate?” Frank asks, looking at the mess with a quirked eyebrow.

“My kid brother,” Gerard replies, poking one of Mikey’s dirty jeans with his foot and pushing it across the room.

“Is he going to come back any time soon? Cause you might want to put a sock on your doorknob or something.”

Gerard shakes his head and grins at Frank. They don’t have a special signal for these kinds of occasions. Mikey doesn’t usually bring dates home and Gerard’s social life has been to a standstill these past few years.

Besides, Mikey is spending the day with his friends and won’t be home until late night, early morning; that is, if he even comes home.

Frank grins back and starts walking around the room, looking at everything and touching Gerard’s action figures with the appropriate reverence only a nerd would show to such a collection. Gerard puts on the movie Frank was so excited to watch and they both sit on Gerard’s bed, miles away from each other.

It takes Frank about five seconds to correct that as he shifts closer to Gerard and sticks his hand on Gerard’s thigh again, just like he did in the car. Gerard bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t moan and keeps his eyes on his shitty and miniscule laptop screen, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.

It’s a pretty ridiculous movie which makes it even better than Gerard would have thought. There are swords and acrobatics, cowboys and bearded ladies, and it’s wonderful.

They get to this one scene where the main character and his love interest are kissing and it’s kind of sweet. Gerard turns to Frank, wondering if he could steal a kiss from him too, just one. He doesn’t have to ponder the question for long because Frank is staring at him, intent. He smiles and his fingers clench around Gerard’s thigh.

They stay like this for a few seconds before Gerard gets enough courage to lean in. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he leaves them in his lap, wondering if he should maybe wrap one in the nape of Frank’s neck because he’d really like to do that.

While he’s busy thinking about logistics, Frank closes the distance between them and presses their mouths together. It’s a little awkward at first because their noses keep bumping together but they get a good thing going pretty quickly.

Gerard shuts his eyes and lets go of everything. He lets his hands wander up Frank’s arms and then his chest before resting them on Frank’s shoulders. The logistics don’t really matter anymore at this point. Frank starts nibbling on Gerard’s lower lip and Gerard forgets he even has hands. He lets out a groan and squeezes Frank’s shoulders, opening his eyes as he pulls away slowly.

Frank laughs, bright and childish and settles back against the headboard. He points at the screen and says, “And then they have this scene later where they just touch because he’s trying to teach her what points to hit to kill someone and it’s like, really fucking sexy.”

Gerard hums because he doesn’t know what to say about that. If it means they get to do more kissing, he’s all for it. By the end of the movie, Frank’s head is resting on Gerard’s shoulder, one of his legs hooked around Gerard’s and his feet are tangled up in the duvet.

Gerard doesn’t have the heart or the will to tell him to move. He just sits in the dark with Frank making occasional comments about this stuntman or that cinematographer and how his dream is to work in movies.

“I’d like to do make-up but you know, not the regular kind. I’d like to put pus and scars and gory shit all over people’s faces,” he says with the same kind of excitement a kid discovering his Christmas presents would show. He looks up at Gerard and his face just lights up. He grins and plants a kiss on Gerard’s lips. “Am I boring you?”

“No. I think you’d be great at it,” Gerard mumbles as he sits up, effectively putting an end to their very chaste movie and cuddle session. “Maybe you should do it. That would be a cool job to have.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

He’s about to get up and take the DVD out of his laptop when Frank lunges at him like the tiniest ninja. Gerard loses his footing and topples over gracelessly, his body hitting the floor with a loud thump and all the air in his lungs suddenly gone.

Frank doesn’t seem to mind the fact that they’re on the floor now or that Gerard is squirming and struggling to find his next breath. He climbs on top of Gerard and pins him down, his knees on either side of Gerard’s hips. He laughs and then leans in for a kiss.

He’s taking his time as he’s prying Gerard’s lips open with the tip of his tongue. He caresses the length of Gerard’s arms with his fingers and is making all these noises in Gerard’s mouth, needy and so perfect. If it was just kissing, Gerard wouldn’t mind.

After all, Frank is a great kisser. He explores Gerard’s mouth, slow and thorough, his tongue tasting like sugar and coffee. He hums in Gerard’s mouth and curls one hand in Gerard’s hair, tugging at it for a moment. He is truly amazing at this.

Gerard’s been kissed before but it’s never been this fantastic. It was never this passionate and mind blowing but maybe it’s because he is in love with Frank. He is completely and utterly in love with him and hates the fact that it’s probably one sided. But the problem here and now is that kissing doesn’t seem to be the only thing on Frank’s mind.

When Frank starts moving on top of Gerard, his ass sliding up and down and rubbing all over Gerard’s dick--which is thankfully still trapped in his jeans--it becomes all very clear.

Gerard is a human being and he has flaws. He gets hard when the boy he likes is on top of him, humping him like there’s no tomorrow. He gets so hard that he might come faster than he ever did.  
It’s not his fault that this is happening. What is his fault is the fact that Frank is even here in the first place. Frank’s under some kind of spell and can’t be held accountable for his actions.

They can’t do this. Gerard can’t let Frank rub himself all over him like this. It’s just plain wrong.

“I can’t do this,” Gerard whispers after he manages to break the kiss. It’s almost too painful to stop.

Frank stares down at him like Gerard is not making any sense, like he’s speaking a foreign language.

“I can’t,” he repeats, pushing Frank away and scrambling back to his feet. He pants and stares down at his giant boner. He can’t really pretend he’s not hard but maybe he can cover his erection with a pillow or by slipping under his duvet.

“Your brother can catch us doing it. I don’t care,” Frank says, grinning up at Gerard. “I bet he’d enjoy the show.” He gets on his knees and strokes the back of Gerard’s thigh.

“I care. We can’t do this. We’re going too fast,” Gerard says. It’s their second date. Maybe they should stick to the making out part; at least for now.

“We can go slower if you want.”

“Yeah. Slower.” That’s exactly what they should do. Maybe sex should actually be off the table forever or until this wish thing is over.

“Can we go back to making out?” Frank asks, his voice betraying how eager he is to get his hands on Gerard again.

Gerard nods. He’s still hard and making out with Frank probably won’t make it better, quite the opposite, but it will be better than nothing. He sits back on the bed and waits for Frank to join him there.

Frank crawls back up onto the bed and kneels in between Gerard’s legs. He giggles, pushes Gerard against the headboard and proceeds to stick his tongue down Gerard’s throat, making the most obscene noises as his hands slide up underneath the hem of Gerard’s t-shirt.

They take a break at some point. Gerard isn’t sure how long they’ve been making out for but it doesn’t really matter. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to move or get out of bed. He doesn’t want to take Frank home, either, because this is too perfect.

He’s also a bit worried that everything is going to end any minute now. If everything goes back to normal while they’re making out, Frank might punch him or something. That would be the worst. Well, that and losing Frank’s respect forever.

When the break is over and Frank covers Gerard’s mouth with his own again, Gerard figures he might have more time to think this through. He might as well enjoy Frank’s company while he still can.

*

Frank spends the night in Gerard’s bed because he falls asleep right in the middle of a story about his dad who, according to Frank, is the best musician ever. He’s mumbling something about how Gerard needs to meet him soon, when he drifts off, his head resting on Gerard’s chest.

Gerard stares at the ceiling for about an hour, thinking about stupid things like how Frank might just disappear during the night and that maybe he should hold onto him just in case, before he finally manages to doze off. This is stupid because obviously, people don’t disappear like that. After all, Frank didn’t appear naked in his bed when he wished it.

When Gerard wakes up from a dreamless sleep a few hours later, Frank didn’t vanish. He’s still snoozing, curled up in Gerard’s arms, breathing slowly, his fingers latched onto Gerard’s sides.

Gerard doesn’t have the heart to wake him up even though he probably should. It’s still early but Frank has to take his shift at work in an hour or so, and he would be pissed off at Gerard if he was late. The best way to wake Frank up this morning, Gerard decides after a few minutes of careful consideration, is to kiss him.

And so he does. First, he plants a kiss on the crown of Frank’s head before moving down to his forehead and the tip of his nose.

Frank shifts and moans and tilts his head back, allowing Gerard easy access to his mouth. Gerard probably has the worst case of morning breath so he sticks to a quick peck on Frank’s lips.

Frank’s eyes slowly blink open and for a second, Gerard’s heart stops. Maybe this is the moment where everything will end. Maybe this pathetic excuse for a kiss is the last thing he’ll ever get to do with Frank.

But then Frank smiles at him and mumbles, “Morning.”

He doesn’t seem to mind Gerard’s morning breath because he squirms on top of Gerard and gives him a sloppy kiss, his tongue twisting in Gerard’s mouth and his fingers on Gerard’s throat.

“Do you have something I could eat?” he asks, mumbling against Gerard’s lips. “I’m fucking starving and I might have to start eating your face.”

On cue, Frank’s stomach starts grumbling. He dissolves into a fit of giggles and sits up in Gerard’s lap, a hand pressed on his stomach.

“Yeah. I could make you something,” Gerard says, even though he has nothing against the idea of Frank eating his face.

He could just pour some cereal and milk in a bowl because that’s his idea of cooking breakfast and he’s sticking by it.

He manages to disentangle himself off Frank and rolls out of bed, not fully awake as he stumbles in sideways in the kitchen. No one is up yet which is for the best because Gerard doesn’t want to have to explain the extra bowl of Frankenberry he’s about to take downstairs with him. He’s in the middle of pouring the milk when he hears footsteps coming from the basement stairs.

Frank stares at the cereal like he was just slapped and makes a grimace. “Are you fucking kidding? Is that what you call breakfast?”

“Yeah. That’s the best cereal ever,” Gerard says with a shrug. It’s what Gerard has on days he actually has time to get a breakfast before heading off to Frank’s Starbucks. It’s what he calls his fancy day breakfast.

“No offense, man. These are great but how about I make you some pancakes instead?” Frank offers as he pushes the bowl of Frankenberry across the table.

“Your shift,” Gerard starts but then Frank stops him by putting his tongue in Gerard’s ear.

“We won’t be late,” he croons, nuzzling at Gerard’s neck. Then he pulls away and announces, “I’m a pro at this. Just watch and I will blow your mind. Do you have syrup?”

“Yeah.”

Gerard searches the cupboards for the bottle of syrup and everything Frank might actually need to succeed in his pancake making venture. Then he sits at the kitchen table and watches Frank prepare the batter, surprised but mostly charmed by his boyfriend and how skilled he can be in the kitchen.

No one ever made Gerard pancakes before, save for his mom on the really rare occasions she’s in the mood for fancy breakfast food, or when they used to have snow days and school was canceled.

Frank flips the pancakes like he’s been doing this his entire life. He gives them faces, drawing a mouth and a pair of eyes with the syrup and a few slices of banana. He also adds a dry Frankenberry in the middle so the pancake man has a nose.

This seems like a waste of time because they should be heading out soon but it’s still stupidly endearing, and Gerard has to resist the urge to tell Frank how much he loves him and all his dorky ways. Frank sets their breakfast on the table and beams at Gerard.

“Your breakfast is served,” he says, adding a little bow before sitting down across from him.

Gerard smiles and destroys the pancake man’s face in two seconds flat by adding tons of syrup on it. He eats as fast as he can even though his body is craving something else. He needs his morning coffee soon or he might start shaking like a drug addict on detox.

They have a coffee maker here but it is the worst and makes coffee taste like watered down piss juice. Besides, Gerard won’t settle down for anything but Frank’s white chocolate mocha.

“You murderer,” Frank mumbles as he’s digging into his own plate. He grins up at Gerard from across the table and starts wolfing down his pancakes in record time.

They skip doing the dishes and leave the kitchen in a state of disarray. Someone else will have to deal with it because they’re already running late. Gerard drives Frank home so he can change and then takes him to work. They don’t really have time to make out but Frank strokes Gerard’s thigh during the ride which makes the fact that they won’t be able to kiss or touch for the next eight hours a little more bearable.

*

On their third date, they decide to stay in Gerard’s room because there’s no point in making other plans. It’s not like they’ll stop kissing long enough to catch a movie anyway.

Frank doesn’t have to go to work the next day so they decide to skip sleep altogether and stay up to watch cartoons instead. They spend most of the evening making out which is pretty much the only thing Gerard has the energy for.

Mikey comes home early the next morning but doesn’t seem to register that there are two people in Gerard’s bed, half naked and sucking face noisily. He flops onto his bed and hides under his blanket, dead to the world for probably the next ten or twelve hours.

“So that was your brother,” Frank comments, rolling off Gerard and curling up at his side. “He seems cool.”

“He’s always a zombie during school breaks. He’s out every night. I don’t know how he does it.”

Frank grabs onto Gerard’s hand and plants a kiss on his knuckles. “You want me to make us pancakes or you’d rather take a nap now?” he asks in a low voice, probably because he doesn’t want to wake Mikey up. It’s not necessary though. Mikey sleeps like the dead.

Gerard shrugs. He’d rather stay here and cuddle with Frank all day if he can.

“I’ll be going back to school soon,” Frank says as he pulls the duvet up to his nose. “I’m not looking forward to that.”

“You’re still in school?” Gerard asks, realizing that he doesn’t know a lot about Frank except for a few things like how he’s a fantastic kisser and makes the best pancakes Gerard ever had.

“Yeah. Not for much longer, hopefully.”

Gerard feels like he should do something to rectify his blatant lack of knowledge of all things Frank.

“So, your dad’s a musician?” he asks because that’s something he remembers from the other night.

“Yeah. Drummer. My grandfather and my uncles too. It’s a family thing, really.”

Gerard is wondering if Frank plays too. Maybe his boyfriend is a hotass musician on top of everything else. The subject doesn’t come up though and Frank falls quiet for a few minutes.

Gerard squeezes on his fingers to make sure he didn’t fall asleep and asks, “What’s your favorite record of all time?”

“Oh man. That’s not an easy one. I’d say,” Frank mumbles as he rolls onto his back, “Nervous Breakdown by Black Flag or Maniacal Laughter by the Souls. I don’t know.”

“You have good taste.”

“Yeah. Though I’m dating you so I’m not so sure about that,” Frank says with a smirk.

Gerard shoves at Frank playfully and mumbles an unconvincing, “Fuck off.”

They end up talking for hours after that. Gerard is unable to shut up for the life of him but instead of talking about himself, he asks Frank thousands of questions. They talk about what Frank is learning at Rutgers. They talk about transcendentalism and Emerson and all the books Frank wants to read before fall term begins because apparently, he’s a bookworm.

By the time they crawl upstairs to get some food, it’s way past lunch time and the house is empty.

Mikey is still comatose from his night out and Gerard and Frank decide to move their conversation which moved on to comic books and horror movies to the living room couch.

Gerard is reluctant to drive Frank home but Frank’s mom might worry if he disappears that long.

“I mean, I’ve been gone two days in a row,” Frank says while Gerard is flipping through the channels to see if they can catch an episode of Top Chef. “She might think I moved out without telling her or something.”

“Yeah.” Gerard feels like an asshole because he’s been hoarding Frank. Maybe Frank would like to see his friends or sleep in his bed or do something else than hanging out with Gerard. It’s just that it’s hard to let go of him when Gerard knows this could end any minute. For all he knows, this might be the last time they get to cuddle on the couch. This could be the last time Gerard gets to run his fingers in Frank’s hair. It could be the last time their lips touch.

Frank looks at Gerard and frowns, like he knows something’s up. He crawls in Gerard’s lap, grabs the remote from Gerard’s hands and throws it at the other end of the couch.

Apparently, they won’t be watching Top Chef.

“I could just pop by to make sure she hasn’t reported me missing and be back in a couple of hours,” Frank mumbles as his lips smear down Gerard’s neck. “I’d rather be in your bed right now.”

Gerard almost chokes on his tongue because, _yeah_ , he’d rather be in bed with Frank too. “Yeah?”

“Just make sure your brother isn’t around tonight,” Frank says, sliding his fingers in Gerard’s belt loop. “That would be awesome.”

 _Oh._ That’s not good. This is getting serious and Gerard isn’t sure he can keep pushing Frank away for much longer. Maybe Gerard should ask Mikey to stick around so he doesn’t have to deal with Frank’s urges to get into his pants.

*

They’re lying in Gerard’s bed and watching Dawn of the Dead when it happens.

Mikey bailed out on Gerard because he had other things to do and didn’t want to chaperone his brother and his boyfriend, which Gerard totally gets. He would have done the same thing in his position.

Gerard pretends he doesn’t notice Frank’s hand sliding down between his thighs, reaching into his own jeans. He pretends he doesn’t hear the sound Frank makes, a low groan, slightly muffled by the fact that Frank’s mouth is pressed against Gerard’s shoulder.

At this point, Gerard could do two things. He could either lend Frank a hand and help him get off, or he could just lie still and pretend he’s watching the movie and that he’s completely oblivious to the fact that his hot boyfriend is jerking off right next to him.

A hand job isn’t wrong in itself. It’s what might follow the hand job; the dry humping, the blow job, the fucking. Gerard would want more. He would want everything. He would need some release and he can’t do that because Frank is not really himself.

Frank’s hand reappears a few seconds later. He curls it in Gerard’s t-shirt and starts nibbling on Gerard’s shoulder through his t-shirt, pulling on the fabric with his teeth to get it out of the way.

Then, he starts humping Gerard’s leg, slow at first before picking up the pace.

He’s not fucking around and Gerard cannot pretend this isn’t happening anymore. It is happening, with or without him and he’d rather be a participant.

Gerard runs his fingers in Frank’s hair and pulls just a little, tilting Frank’s head just so he can kiss him. That’s all he’s willing to give but it should be enough.

Gerard shoves his tongue down Frank’s throat and kisses him hard and urgent. It’s messy and deep, so much so that Gerard is getting really hard in his pants and there is nothing he can do to get himself off.

He doesn’t want to thrust up against Frank. This is his punishment for making a selfish wish; disregarding what Frank might feel; getting him to break up with his dickface of a boyfriend. Gerard deserves this. He deserves to be a spectator and never get any form of release.

Frank doesn’t slow down and doesn’t break the kiss. He pants and whines, coming undone in Gerard’s arms, his hips pushing up, his back arching into it.

On the screen, a zombie baby is being born but Gerard can’t really focus on how disgusting or awesome this scene is because his boyfriend is dry humping his leg and clinging to his shirt like it’s a lifeline.

By the time Gerard breaks the kiss, Frank’s thrusts have become more erratic. Then they stop and Frank lets out a long moan, his lips slick and open. His fingers tug on Gerard’s shirt a little too hard and Gerard hears a crack.

Frank breathes down Gerard’s neck and whispers, “Fuck.”

The strangest thing happens then. Gerard’s stomach tenses and he comes without even being touched, his orgasm so intense that he has to hold onto Frank, his fingers digging into Frank’s hips and holding him in place. It’s a little embarrassing but it’s not like Frank noticed. Gerard quickly pulls himself together, sucking a breath and chewing on his bottom lip so he doesn’t moan.

Frank collapses, his body heavy and hot on top of Gerard’s. He looks up at Gerard and lets out a tiny giggle.

“Just so you know? I’m not turned on by zombies or anything that gross,” he whispers, his voice rough. He pants, his breath brushing up Gerard’s damp skin and plants a kiss on the underside of Gerard’s jaw.

Gerard brushes his fingers over Frank’s forehead where his hair is stuck in a sweaty mess. His brain might have turned to mush because he’s not sure he got what Frank was saying. “Hm?”

“It’s just, you know?” Frank mumbles, making a wide hand gesture.

Gerard doesn’t know but he’d really like to.

“You turn me on and sometimes it’s a little too much for me,” Frank says before he proceeds to lick a stripe from the hollow of Gerard’s throat to his lips, finishing off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue exploring the inside of Gerard’s mouth.

Gerard can’t help but feel stupidly proud of himself. There he is, turning Frank on by doing absolutely nothing. “Frank,” Gerard attempts to mumble with a mouthful of Frank’s tongue. The word comes out muffled and Gerard pulls away. “Frank,” he repeats as Frank’s lips slip down his chin.

“I’m sorry. I know you wanted to wait,” Frank says, shifting away from Gerard. He sits up at the other side of the bed, looking like he just broke Gerard’s favorite action figure. “You wanted to wait and I fucked it up by being horny.”

“No.” Gerard didn’t do that to make Frank feel guilty. _Fuck._ He is a fucking asshole. “No. I love you. You can dry hump me any day.”

This is probably the most stupid thing Gerard has ever said but he means it.

“Wow. Gee. You’re fucking romantic.”

Gerard protests by running a finger on Frank’s side, tickling him because Frank did mention he was ticklish, an information Gerard was never intending to use for evil until just now.

Frank curls up in ball and kicks his feet in an attempt to hit Gerard or maybe flee. “Please, Gee.”

Gerard grins and rolls on top of Frank, straddling him so his boyfriend can’t escape. He tortures Frank a few more minutes, until Frank is crying and begging him to stop (he even threatens Gerard of violent retaliations involving Gerard’s balls), before switching back to kissing him.

*

When Gerard wakes up the next morning, Frank is gone. His warm but tiny frame has been replaced by a piece of paper with a smiley face on it.

Gerard grins as he picks it up and starts reading. Frank had to go home to shower and change. Apparently, he didn’t want to work an eight hours shift with dry jizz in his jeans which is understandable. He also promises Gerard a free cakepop and a kiss when he shows up for his morning coffee.

 _Fuck the customers and fuck Mike. I think it’s my right to make out with my boyfriend wherever I want to._

Gerard’s eyes fall on the last paragraph, which is really not that long; just four words. _I love you too._

Gerard reads that part at least ten or twenty times before he manages to get out of bed. He runs into a disheveled, bruised and haggard Mikey on his way outside. He wants to ask him if he got in a fight because his glasses are missing and his t-shirt is ripped beyond repair, but Mikey just walks past him, smelling of alcohol and pot, and Gerard figures he should probably leave him alone for now.

He does give him a little pat on the back before heading out of the basement to which Mikey replies with a low grunt that sounds like, “hangover.”

The drive to Starbucks is the longest it has ever been. Gerard gets stuck in traffic and he gets every God damn red light on his way from Belleville to Glen Ridge. Instead of the usual five minutes, it takes him twenty to get there.

The parking lot is full because it’s a fucking Saturday morning so Gerard has to park in an adjacent street.

When he finally walks inside the shop, there is a small queue of customers surrounding Mike and Frank. Gerard can still see Frank in his green apron, smiling at a lady as he hands her a Styrofoam cup over the counter.

Gerard cranes his neck so Frank can see that he’s here but Frank disappears behind the pastry counter. Maybe Gerard should wait until the rush dies down. Frank probably won’t have a minute to talk to him, let alone kiss him.

“Good morning. The usual?” Mike asks him when Gerard finally reaches the front of the line.

“Yeah,” Gerard replies, digging through his pockets for change because even though he’s Frank’s boyfriend, he insists on paying for what he drinks. Besides, he’s getting a free cakepop and a kiss so he might as well pay for his mocha.

“White mocha with five shots and whipped cream,” Mike tells Frank as he pummels on the keys of the register.

Frank reappears from behind the pastry counter, a huge smile on his face, probably because he recognized the order as Gerard’s. Gerard grins at him and gets butterflies in his stomach. Everything is different now. Frank loves him.

“There you go,” Frank says, handing Gerard his beverage. He probably just forgot about the cakepop so Gerard feels it’s his duty to remind him.

“Aren’t I supposed to get a free cakepop with this?” he asks, giving Frank a lopsided grin and brushing his fingers against Frank’s as he grabs his cup.

Frank removes his hand promptly and gives Gerard a strange look, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I can’t give out free stuff today. Sorry, dude. If I mess up an order, I’ll give you a heads up though.”

 _Dude_ Since when do they call each other dude?

“Okay,” Gerard mumbles. Something is off. Maybe Frank is just acting like this because the place is packed and giving his boyfriend free shit wouldn’t look very professional.

Frank turns away and a woman clears her throat next to Gerard, hinting at him that he should move out of everyone’s way. Gerard apologizes profusely as he heads to his corner. There’s a guy already sitting here but there’s an empty seat at the next table.

That’s fine. Gerard drinks his mocha and starts doodling on a stack of napkins, watching Frank work from the corner of his eye even though his view is partially blocked by the counter. The guy does vacate Gerard’s seat after a little while and Gerard claims it back, dragging his napkin art and his coffee across the table, pushing the guy’s empty cup over to the side.

A couple of hours later, the place gets quieter and Frank comes out from behind the counter to clear out the tables around Gerard.

He looks over his shoulder at Mike and sits at Gerard’s table, probably because he’s not supposed to take a break to talk to his boyfriend. He lets out a heavy sigh and says, “So, Mike over there told me I asked you out last week.”

Gerard was so fucking happy that he forgot that this thing had an expiration date. How could he forget that he was going to lose Frank?

“Problem is, I don’t remember doing it,” Frank adds, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb. He looks down at Gerard’s napkins and picks one up, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I mean, Mike said we did hang out and I’m pretty sure we didn’t.”

Gerard opens his mouth but no word comes out. What is he supposed to say? That he wished Frank was his boyfriend and it just happened?

“Did we?” Frank asks, narrowing his eyes like as if he was trying to read Gerard and his prolonged silence.

Gerard doesn’t come up with an answer. The only thing he manages to do is grab his coffee, get up and walk out of the shop. His heart is breaking, shattered into a million tiny shards of glass.

The air in Gerard’s car is stuffy and Gerard cannot breathe. He rolls his window down and pulls into the main street. As he passes in front of Starbucks, he can’t help but stop and take one last glance inside. Frank is staring right at him, holding something in his hands; Gerard’s pens. He is mouthing something at Gerard that could be “Wait,” and shakes Gerard’s pens as he makes his way to the door.

Gerard fucking forgot his expensive pens. Now he’s too scared to go back since going back would mean having to explain things like how Frank ended up losing an entire week of his life because some asshole made a wish.

An impatient jerk honks and Gerard is forced to drive away. He gives up on everything and goes home. He locks himself in his room because what’s the point of being out in the world if Frank isn’t with him anymore. He probably thinks Gerard is some kind of psychopath who preys on young pierced and tattooed baristas.

Mikey is snoring in his bed and Gerard figures he might as well do the same thing. It’s not like he has anything better to do today.

*

Gerard ventures outside two days later. Mikey is nagging him about Frank and his mom is nagging him because he’s not looking for a job. It’s pretty much a nag fest, and Gerard would rather get out of the house before he stabs his entire family with a paint brush.

There’s an art supply store in West Orange that Gerard likes because they have everything he could ever want, and Gerard decides that it’s probably time he bought new pens since the other ones are gone forever.

The art supply store happens to be right across from a coffee shop – not a Starbucks franchise but beggars can’t be choosers. Gerard pops in there first since he’s been running on his mom’s sock juice for a couple of days now and it does nothing to keep him awake.

The barista isn’t a cute tattooed dude but a tall woman with blue hair. She’s not wearing a green apron. She’s doesn’t know what Gerard likes to drink.

“Do you make white chocolate mochas?” Gerard asks, shuffling his feet and looking around the empty coffee shop. This is definitely not Starbucks. There are barely any places to sit and only a couple of tables. At least, it won’t get crowded.

“Sure.” The woman gives Gerard one of these customer service appropriate smiles and passes on the order to her colleague, a short man with a thin moustache.

“With five shots of espresso,” Gerard adds because that’s the only way he likes it.

“Wow. You’re hardcore,” the colleague says and the blue haired woman laughs.

Gerard fakes a smile. He grabs his coffee (no whipped cream. Apparently, this was a Frank thing only) and heads out. He wonders if he should make another wish; maybe have whipped cream appear on top of his mocha. It’s not like he can wish for something important. His superpower might actually be the most useless anyone’s ever had. Maybe it’s not that useless because it managed to ruin his life or at least make it even more unbearable than it was before.

The coffee is nothing like the one they make at Starbucks. It’s not bad but it’s not the same. Maybe that’s actually a good thing. This way he doesn’t have to think about Frank every time he takes a sip.

He’s failing at not thinking about Frank as he crosses the street and enters the art supply store. He grabs a basket and starts filling it with things that are not pen. He grabs this cool craft paper and this new paint brush even though he doesn’t need one. It’s not until he’s walking out of the store, roughly an hour later, that he notices the sign on the window.

The store is looking for a full time sales assistant and that would be the perfect job for Gerard. He hesitates doubling back for a minute. Then a voice that sounds a lot like his mom convinces him to go ask the cashier for a job application.

Maybe the store is desperate or maybe they’re impressed with Gerard’s resume (he does have a few years of experience in the fabulous world of retail under his belt) because they end up hiring him two days later. Gerard isn’t really excited about going back to work but at least, he manages to solve one of his problems, and he does it without making any wish.

*

Gerard doesn’t make any wish for two weeks. Maybe it’s because he’s too tired to even think when he comes home after work but it might just be because he’s afraid of screwing everything up again.

He gets into a little routine that consists of three major things. He works forty hours a week, drinks as much coffee as he can stomach at the little coffee place across from the store and sleeps.

Since he doesn’t come out of his room on his days off, it gives him plenty of times to ruminate about things he did and didn’t do. He thinks about Frank a lot, probably because he keeps finding stuff Frank forgot in his room; a DVD of a B-movie they never watched, a sock (however the hell Frank managed to lose one of his socks is still a mystery), a pack of Camels.

He puts everything in a corner of his drawer because he doesn’t have the heart to just throw it away and Mikey starts calling it “the Frank altar of unrequited and creepy love.”

“When you’re done brooding,” Mikey says one morning as he’s leaving for school, “you should go back to Starbucks. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

Gerard moans at his brother because it’s the only answer he can think of. He grunted at him last night and threw a shoe at him last week, because Mikey asked him about Frank.

Even though Gerard is a bit reluctant to admit it, perhaps Mikey is right. It’s been almost three weeks now and Gerard doubts anyone even remembers what happened. Maybe he could just walk in, order some coffee and test the waters to see if Frank is mad at him for taking advantage of him.

It takes Gerard a few more days but he eventually grabs his car keys and drives up to Glen Ridge. When he walks in, Mike is behind the counter.

Gerard takes a deep breath and rehearses in his head what he wants to tell Frank one last time. He’s sorry. He didn’t know it would work. They didn’t have sex. He hopes Frank can forgive him. It will never happen again.

The only flaw in Gerard’s plan is that Frank isn’t here. His replacement is a guy who looks like the human incarnation of the neighbors’ dog, a pit bull terrier with a few missing teeth. He looks up from behind the pastry counter as he’s restocking it with fresh cake pops and gives Gerard a curious stare.

That’s probably because Gerard is standing in front of the counter and not ordering anything. He remembers Mike and why he’s here.

“Hi. The usual?” Mike asks him and there’s something strange in his voice. He sounds almost robotic.

“Yes, please. Hmm I was wondering,” Gerard starts as he’s fishing for some cash in his pockets.

“He’s gone. He quit last week,” Mike says sharply. He turns to his Pit Bull of a colleague and tells him, “White mocha with five shots of espresso and whipped cream.”

If what happened with Gerard is the reason why Frank quit, then Gerard might as well blow his brains out now.

“He went back to school,” Mikey says when Gerard opens his mouth to ask for more details. “Rutgers.”

“Oh.”

Frank told him about Rutgers and having to go back there soon. He just didn’t realize it would be this soon and that he would miss the opportunity to see him again.

Mike nods and mumbles, “Yeah. Sorry about that.” Then he looks past Gerard and says, “Next please.”

Gerard takes a side step and lets the next customer through. He shuffles towards his mocha. While he’s making his way back to his car, he stares at the tiny blob of whipped cream on top of his drink. There is nothing he can do to fix this now. It’s over and it’s all because of this stupid, useless power of his.

*

Gerard wishes he didn’t have any superpowers at least ten times but he can’t really test if it worked or not because he doesn’t want to wish for anything else. He thinks about Frank a lot although he really tries not to.

Instead, he fills his days with coffee and work. He even works on this graphic novel he’s been meaning to start for so long. He works on it at home or when the store isn’t too busy. It gives him something to think about.

It seems to be working fine until one day he catches Lindsey, his favorite new colleague (she’s into the same bands and comics as Gerard which is why they became instant friends), reading _Catcher in the Rye_ by Salinger. There are a lot of mundane things that still remind Gerard of Frank, like a particular smell or a song on the radio, but this is even worse. This is Frank’s favorite book.

Gerard swallows a lump in his throat and finishes ringing up his customer. He forgets to give the guy a bag to put his purchases or his receipt. It’s a miracle he actually gave the guy the right amount of change.

“Are you okay?” Lindsey asks as she looks up from her worn off and dog-eared paperback.

Gerard doesn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t tell Lindsey about Frank or about his power of making wishes come true. Maybe she wouldn’t understand.

“Tell me. Maybe I can help,” she says, putting her book down in her lap and reaching out to pat Gerard on the shoulder.

Gerard wishes he could see Frank again, even if it was just for a second, just in the corner of a street or at traffic light. He just wants to see Frank’s face one last time before it fades out of his memory forever.

It takes Gerard a few seconds to process the fact that he made a wish— the first one in weeks. Maybe things have changed now. Maybe this doesn’t work anymore. He looks around the empty store but Frank isn’t anywhere in sight.

“I need to take a break,” Gerard says as he scrambles to his feet, giving Lindsey a lopsided smile he hopes reassuring. He could use a cup of coffee right now and it’s not like the shop is swarming with customers this afternoon.

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll keep an eye on the register,” Lindsey says, jumping down from the counter and taking Gerard’s place in front of the register. “Take your time, Gee.”

It’s raining buckets outside and Gerard has to run across the street to get to the coffee shop. The place is more crowded than the store, meaning that they have two customers. There’s no line in front of the counter but the only two customers are sitingt at one of the tables, talking quietly and sipping on their afternoon coffee. Neither of them is Frank.

Gerard orders a white chocolate mocha and goes to sit on one of the stools by the window. He can see the entire street from here and it’s just as empty as the coffee shop.

Maybe it’s better than it didn’t work. It would have made things harder. Gerard would have wanted to run after Frank and tell him he missed him and it’s a stupid thing to say to someone you’re not supposed to know.

From Frank’s point of view, they were never together and Gerard was just a random guy who stared at him too much and made shitty napkin art.

Gerard looks at the store across the street, a dim light coming from the window. Frank would never come in here. He’s in Rutgers or fuck knows where, living his life and not giving a fuck about Gerard. There is no reason for him to drop by West Orange in the middle of the week just because Gerard made a wish.

In the street, a car runs a red light and someone shouts some obscenity, probably at the careless driver. A cloaked silhouette appears in Gerard’s line of vision, rushing down the sidewalk. It stops in front of the coffee shop for a second, feet planted in a giant puddle of muddy water with cigarette butts floating in it.

There’s no way of telling if it’s a man or a woman because all Gerard can see is the water dripping from a curly lock of dark hair that’s peeking out of a hoodie. He also notices how short they are.

The silhouette leans against the window for second before pushing the door open and walking inside.

Gerard doesn’t need to hear him speak. He recognizes the tattoo on his neck when Frank pulls off his hood. There’s also the way he walks, with confidence and aim.

Gerard blinks but doesn’t move from his chair. He hides behind his mocha and chugs it as though it wasn’t scorching hot. He burns his tongue and his eyes start watering but he doesn’t make a sound. He just keeps on drinking.

Frank hasn’t changed a lot in a month. His hair is just a bit longer than it was the last time they spoke, but everything else is exactly the same. Gerard feels a ball in his stomach. His heart starts racing and his palms get so sweaty he has to wipe them off on his pants.

Frank’s sneakers squeak on the hardwood floor. He stops in front of Charlie, the blue haired barista, and taps his fingers on the counter. Then he starts looking around the shop and his eyes lock in with Gerard’s.

Gerard doesn’t have time to run. His cup isn’t big enough to hide him.

Frank stares at him for a few seconds, frowning, and Gerard thinks that maybe, he won’t recognize him. It’s been so long, and Gerard is actually showering now (some bullshit about workplace etiquette that forces Gerard to shower at least twice a week) and his hair looks probably different when it’s clean.

Frank starts grinning at him and Gerard knows he is screwed. Gerard puts down his cup on the tabletop and shifts on his stool. He’s not sure he should get up and go say hi. Maybe he should just wait and see what Frank does.

Frank runs a hand through his hair, plastering it on top of his head and waves at Gerard. “Hey,” he says walking up to him.

“Hey,” Gerard replies, his voice coming out weak and broken.

“How’ve you been?” Frank asks as he jumps onto the next stool and pats Gerard’s shoulder like they’re old friends.

“Good. You?”

“Pretty great. School is kicking my ass but I manage.”

Gerard clears his throat and glances at the customers at the table, as if they could help him get out of this. When he looks back at Frank, he finds him staring at Gerard’s hands as they squeeze the empty cup of mocha.

“What are you doing here?” Gerard asks, letting go of his cup and tucking his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Is this your new coffee hole? I like it. A lot quieter than Starbucks,” Frank says which does not answer Gerard’s question. He gets up and goes back to the counter. He turns to Gerard and asks, “Oh. Do you want a refill?”

“Sure.”

“Whatever you have that looks like a Grande white chocolate mocha with five shots of espresso and extra whipped cream,” he says, without even a second of hesitation. “And for me, a cup of lemon tea. Please and thank you kindly.” He grins at the barista, huge and charming.

Frank remembers what Gerard likes to drink. That is pretty impressive considering Frank probably had a ton of regular customers to deal with, each with a different favorite drink.

When their order is ready, Frank brings it to the little countertop by the window and sits back next to Gerard.

“Here’s your coffee, man,” he says, pushing the cup towards Gerard.

“Thanks.”

“I’m here because my car broke down,” he mumbles, shrugging, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I was coming back from a friend and the radiator just went Poof.” He makes a wide hand gesture to accompany the explosion before giggling for no apparent reason.

“That sucks.”

“Then some asshole drove into a pot hole and I almost drowned.” He shakes his head and combs his hair with his fingers, droplets falling on the counter. “Fuck me.”

He looks up from his tea and smiles at Gerard. He crooks his mouth and says, “I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s been on my mind for a while.”

Gerard ducks his head and starts stirring his mocha, destroying the mountain of whipped cream that’s crowning it. “Yeah?”

“It’s just that Mike told me I asked you out but I don’t remember doing it.”

 _Fuck._ They’re back on this subject. Gerard could probably run out the door now but Frank is cornering him and he might as well do this now. Maybe it will be fast and painless.

“It’s weird because I’ve always wanted to ask you out,” Frank adds after a few seconds of an uncomfortable silence. “I don’t know why I never did. I guess I was waiting for a sign that you were interested. Sorry if I was a bit persistent.”

Gerard can’t believe Frank is apologizing to him for being persistent. He wasn’t persistent.

“You did?”

“What? Wanted to ask you out?”

Gerard nods.

Frank stares down into his cup of tea and shifts on his stool. “Yeah. All summer. I kept dropping hints but you were never really receptive so I figured you’d say no.”

Hints? Gerard didn’t see any hints. “What hints?”

Frank chuckles and stares at Gerard, a line creasing his forehead. “Do you really think I am allowed to give that much free shit to people? I had to pay for the cupcakes and brownies, dude. Every single one of them” he says, tapping his finger on the tabletop for emphasis.

“Oh.”

“I kept your pens and shit by the way,” he says before taking a sip of tea. He makes a grimace and jumps off his stool. He grabs a few packets of sugar and sits back down. “Maybe you want them back?”

“No. I bought new ones.”

Frank lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. “Dude, I’m sorry I freaked you out that last time you were there. I didn’t mean to chase you away. I just really wanted to ask you out but I guess I shouldn’t have tried.”

This would make a lot more sense if Gerard had made a wish about this. He didn’t. He only wished he could see Frank for a second.

“I…You don’t have to apologize. I’m—”

Frank holds out his hand and reaches out to shake Gerard’s. “My name is Frank by the way, but you probably already knew that,” he says, giggling into his cup of tea.

“Yeah,” Gerard says, grabbing Frank’s hand and shaking it slowly. “It was on your nametag.” The touch of his fingers on Gerard’s skin sends a jolt of electricity up his spine. His stomach leaps and he feels sick.

He doesn’t really want to let go of Frank’s hand and Frank doesn’t seem to want to let go of Gerard’s either. So they stay like this, shaking hands for what seems like a minute.

Frank frowns and says, “I can keep calling you hotpants if you don’t want to tell me your name. I’m cool with that.”

 _Oh yeah_. Gerard forgot for a moment that even though they had done this before, it wasn’t real. If Gerard didn’t already know about the ‘hotpants’ nickname, he would be blushing and melting into his seat.

“It’s Gerard,” he says, squeezing Frank’s fingers, wondering if he should let go now.

“Gerard,” Frank echoes, the letters rolling out of his mouth like he’s trying to speak a foreign language. “I like Gerard better than Hotpants to be honest.”

At this, he lets go of Gerard’s hand, his fingers running on Gerard’s flushed skin. “Nice to finally meet you, Gerard.”

“Nice to meet you too, Frank.”

“So, Gerard. Do you think you could give me a ride?”

Outside, the rain is still pouring, heavy and relentless. Maybe Lindsey can manage on her own for a couple of hours because Gerard doesn’t want to leave the coffee shop anymore.

*

“Here’s your coffee,” Frank says, pushing the mug on the kitchen table. He plants a kiss on Gerard’s temple and sits across from him, pulling one of Gerard’s sketches towards him so he can examine it.

He gives Gerard a nod of approval and slides it back to him.

“How about I help you get your grades up with a wish?” Gerard asks as he takes a sip of coffee. It’s just perfect. The perfect whipped cream to mocha ratio and the right amount of sugar. Frank really makes the best coffee in all of Jersey, possibly the best in the entire world.

Frank rolls his eyes and rests his feet in Gerard’s lap, his toes rubbing over the zipper of Gerard’s jeans. “Nah. That would be cheating. I’m a honest guy.”

Gerard shrugs. This is so frustrating. “I just hate that this power is so useless. How am I supposed to figure it out if I can’t use it?”

The last wish he made was two weeks ago, but it was an emergency. He wished he had a condom left somewhere in his room because things were getting kind of intense with Frank, and there it was; a condom he never thought he had, wedged between two comics, probably one of Mikey’s.

Frank looked at him like he was a crazy person when Gerard did a victory lap around the room, holding the condom up in the air. Then Gerard told him about the wish thing and Frank didn’t think it was odd. He only thought it was cool.

“Use it to wish for more whipped cream, you silly,” Frank says, pulling another one of Gerard’s artwork to him and shaking his head at him like an asshole.

Gerard scrunches up his nose and mumbles, “How about I wish you could suck my cock?”

“Jerkface. You know you don’t have to wish for the kind of stuff you’re already getting for free.”

Frank leans across the table and plants a kiss on the tip of Gerard’s nose.

Gerard reaches out and grabs him before he can pull away. He rests his fingers on the nape of Frank’s neck and gives him a lopsided smile.

“I want to help people, Frank,” he says when he finally lets go. “I want to do something selfless and save people’s lives.”

It seems like the whole point of having a power. He should be able to make cash appear so his parents don’t fight over debts. He should be able to give Frank a new car so he doesn’t have to take the bus to everywhere, or help him complete his collection of Vertigo comics.

Frank lingers over the table for a few more seconds, pressing his forehead against Gerard. Then he whispers, “You’ll get the hang of it, baby. Stop worrying so much.” He runs a finger over Gerard’s dry lips and pulls away. “What matters is that you’re not a supervillain. You’re a good guy, Gerard.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Frank slides back into his chair and starts rubbing his toes over Gerard’s crotch.

Gerard would object because Ray, Bob and Mike are in the living room at this very moment, watching the some cartoons and they have all these rules about public displays of affection, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he relaxes into the touch and shuts his eyes.

“How about you wished we went back to bed now and wished your door would lock so Mikey didn’t catch us again?” Frank says, his voice low and husky.

It was one of the most embarrassing moments of Gerard’s life, having his brother walking in on him and Frank. It was bound to happen sooner or later because they haven’t been the most careful but Gerard wasn’t expecting it to be while Frank was giving him a blowjob in the middle of the afternoon on a school day.

“I think we scarred him for life,” he says, laughing because he can still see the mortified look on Mikey’s face. Gerard had to apologize to him for an entire month and then give him half of his CD collection so Mikey wouldn’t tattle to their parents.

“I think he enjoyed the sight of my bare ass. I have a great ass,” Frank says as he starts wiggling on his chair.

“You do.”

Gerard cranes his neck, taking a quick glance at his friends on the couch and making sure they’re too busy to notice his and Frank’s sudden disappearance. They seem entranced by whatever is going on in an episode of SpongeBob Squarepants so it should be fine.

He still wishes no one catches them this time around because he’d really like to take his time with Frank. He gives Frank a lopsided grin and slowly gets up. Then he takes Frank’s hand and leads him back to the basement.

One silly little wish once in a while can’t hurt. He can always save human kind tomorrow.  



End file.
